


Don't Wake Up

by Lif61 (UltimateFandomTrash)



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Gen, POV Sam Winchester, Prompt Fill, Sam Winchester Whump, Tumblr Prompt, Whump
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-09-06
Updated: 2020-09-06
Packaged: 2021-03-06 17:41:48
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 367
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26322838
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/UltimateFandomTrash/pseuds/Lif61
Summary: Sam is tied up, hands hanging above his head, and he can barely breathe. Will he be able to call for help?
Comments: 2
Kudos: 19





	Don't Wake Up

**Author's Note:**

> **Written for a TAT prompt on tumblr: Oxygen - asphyxiation due to being tied up with hands above their head, wrists tied to a hook in the ceiling, feet barely touching the ground. Bonus for getting gagged which makes breathing even harder and calling for help rather impossible.**

Of course he’d gotten himself into this mess. _Of. Course._ After all the torture, and trauma, and dark shit, Sam didn’t know what he’d expected.

Here he was, wrists tied above his head, connected to a hook in the ceiling, his toes just barely able to reach the dirt-strewn basement floor. The ceiling was high for a basement, but it wasn’t the average basement. It had torture instruments, blood stains, dead bodies…

_Classy,_ he thought.

Sam’s instinct was to cry for help. Get _someone’s_ attention. Anyone’s. But he knew he was in a rural part of town.

But Dean…

Where was Dean?

Tears pricked at his eyes as he remembered watching Dean get beaten. Sam had lost consciousness before seeing more, not knowing if Dean escaped, or if he was—

Sam swallowed roughly.

His brother wasn’t here, so where was he?

Maybe Sam could call for help. He’d have to do so quickly. He could hold himself up for a minute at a time, but already he was sweating, breathless, arms and shoulders aching. And when he couldn’t hold himself up, air refused to go into his lungs.

“Dean…” Sam murmured, having been going for a yell, but not having enough air.

He raised himself up again, panting, trembling, head and lungs pounding. Black spots were in his vision.

“Dean!” Sam cried.

“Sammy?!”

He looked around frantically, trying to find where his brother’s voice was coming from.

Dean walked forward out of the dark shadows, and Sam held himself up long enough to say, “Get me down, asshole.”

But Dean put a gag in his mouth, Sam fighting and screaming.

A punch to his stomach had him coughing out what little air he had, and he had to let himself hang, toes reaching, desperately trying to reach the ground.

Oh, he hurt.

And now he couldn’t speak.

Head hanging, exhausted, unable to breathe, gasping for air, he blinked. Slowly, he saw it wasn’t Dean in front of him.

But then it was, his brother punching him in the stomach again.

No, not his brother.

It. The thing they’d been hunting.

Sam lost consciousness, too out of it to wonder if he’d ever wake up again.

He didn’t.


End file.
